


The Isle of the Moon

by ignipes



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-19
Updated: 2005-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignipes/pseuds/ignipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Avast! That be the Isle of the Moon," he said, waving with a gnarled hand to the land that was no more than a shadow on the water. "'Tis a haunted, evil place, mark me words, inhabited by a great sorcerer. Aye, all men who sail these waters know t' avoid it, especially on the night o' the full moon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Isle of the Moon

_In my memory that terrible night and the dreamlike days that followed are as clear as the Caribbean waters, a cacophony of sights and sounds and smells I shall never forget, and when I close my eyes I can feel the cool ocean breeze on my face, the heat of the sun, the choking terror of drowning, the brush of calloused hands on my skin, the press of a hard body against my own._

_Yes, even now I remember it well. I cherish the memory more than the treasures and jewels I have gathered over the years, more than the thrill of a fast ship dancing on the waves, more than a sharp blade in my hand and a rich prize in my sight._

_I was new upon the seas then, though I had already formed a name for myself and seized a vessel that was much to my liking. She was called ~~Sea Nymph~~ ~~Mad Molly~~ The Black Mother, an unlucky name, but whether the luck she brought me in our short time together was good or ill I do not know, for there are some winds that cannot be judged except after the passage of a man's full life._

_On a bright clear morning we sailed from Tortuga on a strong wind, seeking a Spanish galleon said to be crossing those waters with a hold heavy with King Philip's gold, but we did not raise the island until evening. Storm clouds were gathering, the sun sank in a blood-red sky, and the men whispered about bad luck and ill-omens. I did not heed their foolish superstitions until one old man, toothless and stooped, pointed to the speck of land on the horizon and said in a low, menacing voice, '~~La Isla Luna~~ ~~La Isla De~~ The Isle of the Moon.'_

_The other men gasped, even my sensible first mate, and at once I could see agitation spread through the ship faster than ~~disease through a brothel~~ ~~fire through a~~ plague through a crowded city. The men began to neglect their duties, hurrying to the starboard to catch a glimpse of this mysterious island, crossing themselves and muttering._

_Dismayed and angered by their unruly behavior, I summoned the old man and demanded that he tell me why the men were so upset by the sight of that unremarkable little island. He spoke boldly, not as a seaman to a captain but as an old man to a young one, but the tale he told so chilled my heart that I scarcely noticed._

_"Avast! That be the Isle of the Moon," he said, waving with a gnarled hand to the land that was no more than a shadow on the water. "'Tis a haunted, evil place, mark me words, inhabited by a great sorcerer. Aye, all men who sail these waters know t' avoid it, especially on the night o' the full moon." _

_That very night was a full moon, and the glowing orb was just rising over the sea. My eyes sought its cool silver face, then I bid the man to continue._

_"Argh, thar be stories o' that place, mark me words," he went on, lowering his voice. "They say th' men are beguiled by its gentle shores and green tree, lay anchor thar, but the peaceful isle is deceiving, an' they are never seen again. Wiser cap'ns keep their distance, for on the night o' the full moon terrible sounds are heard rising from the island, screams an' howls an' heart-rending, blood-curdling cries. Aye! They say the sorcerer who lives there has created a menagerie of evil creatures, an' they say that he has made from the peaceful villagers who once lived there an army of undead warriors, and they say he devours children as sacrifice and drinks blood to--"_

_The old man would have gone on all night, but while we heard no howls from the island, the wind itself began to howl with strength, and I turned my attention to the oncoming storm._

_Perhaps it is because the men were addled by dark omens, perhaps my own command was confused, perhaps the bad luck of the ship was finally catching us, but we were slow to respond to the fierce winds, and soon the storm was upon us. Lightning crackled and flashed all around, the sea rolled higher than I had ever seen it, waves broke over our decks, wind strained the masts. As I shouted myself hoarse and gripped the wheel in vain, I heard a tremendous CRACK! overhead, and the mainmast toppled into the sea. It was all confusion then, men screaming as they were swept overboard. With a great lurch of the ship, I found myself flying -- falling -- tumbling from the crooked deck toward the churning black sea. _

_That is all I remember._

_I woke, parched and burnt, on a smooth, pale beach. The storm had passed, and the sea glittered with early morning sunlight. There was a great pain in my chest with every breath, and I feared my ribs were broken. Slowly, agonizingly, I raised myself weakly and surveyed the land I had found. It was peaceful and quiet, a narrow strip of sand beside an invitingly cool forest, in which birds sang cheerfully in the morning breeze. However pleasant it was, I knew I needed to find water, so I looked up and down the beach, trying to decide which way to go. _

_That was when I saw him._

_He walked toward me slowly, strolling casually along the sand, a silhouette against the brilliant sky. I opened my mouth to call out, then remembered, with a sudden terror, the words of the old man about the evil sorcerer, and my voice caught in my throat. There was no place to hide, yet I was too weak to rise and fight, so I waited, my fear growing, as he drew nearer. _

_When I could view him clearly, I saw that he did not have the countenance of evil. Rather, he looked very ordinary, darkened by the sun, dressed in clothing that had been mended many times, his kind face marked by worry and concern. _

_Later, later, I would come to know that face as well as I know my own. I would know the lines of laughter around the soft brown eyes, the quick smile that came and went like a fox, the thoughtful tilt of the head. I would know the texture of his hair beneath my fingers, the warmth of his skin, the strength of his arms. I would know the calmness of his voice, the joy of his laughter, the pleasurable moans that rose from his throat. I would know ~~his long hard length~~ ~~the heat of his manhood~~ ~~the press of his arousal invading~~ ~~that great big bloody cock~~ ~~joys I had never known~~ _

_As he approached across the sand, however, I knew only fear. Even when he knelt beside me and gave me water from a skin, I was wary. I tried to drink only a sip, lest the cool blessing be tainted with poison, but my body betrayed me and I gulped greedily until he pulled the skin away. He smiled then, and spoke gently, and asked me my name._

_I replied,_

"Sirius!"

_"I will not share my name until you share yours."_

"Sirius!"

He jerked in surprise, knocking over the ink bottle and splattering the parchment with dark blotches. Looking over his shoulder, Sirius scowled in irritation. "What?"

Remus leaned in the doorway, shaking his head. "I've been calling you for five minutes. Have you gone deaf?"

"No," he snapped. "I was busy." With a flick of his wand, he cleaned up the spilled ink and righted the bottle. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to let you know I was back. What are you writing?"

Sirius quickly pulled a clean sheet of parchment over the used on. "Nothing."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"Nothing. Just…stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Nothing."

Sirius saw the glint in Remus' eye a second too late.

"_Accio parchment!_"

The parchment flew out from Sirius' protective grasp and soared toward Remus. Sirius lunged after it, but Remus was quicker, snatching the fluttering scroll out of the air with a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a cackle. He darted down the corridor, a whirlwind of winter robes and laughter. Sirius sprinted after him, roaring, "_Moony! You bloody bastard give that back right--_"

Remus ducked into the bathroom and slammed the door. Sirius skidded to a stop and began pounding immediately. "Remus! Bloody fuck, Remus, that's not funny -- give that back!"

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the door.

"Remus! I'm going to fucking kill you."

Silence.

"Painfully. With a hot poker."

Then: a snicker.

Sirius felt a blush burn across his face. "It was just a joke," he said. The words sounded desperate even to his own ears. He took a deep breath and changed his tone to belligerent. "I'm fucking _bored_, stuck in this place all the time. What the hell do you expect me to do?"

"Menagerie of evil creatures?"

"Shut it. Fuck you. It's not like I have anything else to do. I've already read every book in the house and cleaned every bloody room ten times over and you won't even let me help you--"

"Be quiet. I'm reading."

Sirius fell silent, biting his lip, wondering if it was, in fact, possible for a man to die of embarrassment. Surely not, he decided. At least not until he'd killed one Remus J. Lupin. With a quill. A quill made much more of a statement than a hot poker, in this particular case. Mightier than the sword and all that. Besides, Remus was ticklish, so death-by-quill wasn't really that farfetched -- or that unpleasant to contemplate carrying out, especially not with the way he always squirmed like a madman when he was being tickled, all flushed and laughing so hard he could barely breathe and cursing Sirius with ridiculous gasps and--

"Sirius?"

Sirius considered, briefly, pretending that he had vanished. Then he considered actually vanishing, and hiding until Remus had forgotten all about it. Which would be, he calculated swiftly, in about forty or fifty years, if he was lucky, if Remus was struck with sudden amnesia, if Sirius did five thousand even stupider things between now and then…

"Yes?"

"What's all this you scratched out here at the end? I can barely read it."

Sirius wondered what the combustion temperature of the human body was, and how much longer he had to wait until bursting into flames and ending his humiliation.

"Um."

"It says…something about _long hard_ and then _invading_…Oh, is there going to be a battle? I love sea battles."

"Remus…"

"But then what's all this about _manhood_…?"

"I am going to kill you. Just as soon as--"

"I can't read it, Pads. I think you should come here and tell me what it says."

Through gritted teeth, Sirius reminded him, "You're in there, and I'm out here."

"The door isn't locked, you plonker."

"Oh." Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times. "I knew that." He pushed the door open.

Remus was sitting on the bathroom counter, grinning wickedly and swinging his legs like a little kid. "I like this one better than the last one," he said, handing the parchment to Sirius.

"Thank y--_what?_ The last -- how did you -- _you read that?_"

"You left it on the desk."

"I did not, I left it -- oh." On the desk. For all the world to see. He'd even written the title in a fancy script and underlined it. Twice. Sirius silently thanked whatever gods or muses looked after idiotic writers that he hadn't used that lurid red ink. He looked down at the parchment, at Remus' swinging foot, at the door, at the sink, at the toothbrush, at everything except for Remus.

"That one was brilliant," Remus went on, and Sirius could hear the laughter in his voice. "But I like this one better. Except you haven't got to the good part yet."

"The, ah, good part?"

"_Joys I had never known…_"

He dared to look up then. Remus was still grinning. "That's the good part, you think?"

"Of course. Well, and the sword fighting. There will be sword fighting, right?"

Sirius nodded mutely.

"Brilliant. That's all any good story needs. Sex and sword fighting"

Sirius shook his head in disbelief, then began to smile. He had always known that Remus was a man with good taste in literature. He said, slyly, "I was having a bit of trouble with this one."

"I can see that." Remus slid down from the counter and stood before him, resting his hands on Sirius' waist.

"Couldn't really get the words right."

"That would explain all the crossed-out bits."

"Perhaps you could--" Sirius leaned forward and kissed Remus quickly, "--help me a bit?"

"Perhaps." Another quick kiss, that wicked grin still in place. "I don't know much about sword fighting, though."


End file.
